’ ‘In one little minute,’ she said, snapping her fingers, ‘it is over and voilà tout. No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. Sheppard, pressing her hand to her temples. A moment afterwards, the door was closed and bolted, and the carpenter found himself alone. That was the Frenchie, Valade, surely. There was more to be told, and this was as good a time as any. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. . This structure at once satisfied him as to where he stood. In the circles into which he had been born, the passing on of land was of vital importance.
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